Ode written in 1746

…from the quills of the dead white poets

 William Collins (1721 – 1759)

 How sleep the Brave who sink to rest

By all their Country’s wishes blest!

When Spring, with dewy fingers cold,

Returns to deck their hallow’d mound,

She there shall dress a sweeter sod

Than Fancy’s feet have ever trod.

By fairy hands their knell is rung,

By forms unseen their dirge is sung:

There Honour comes, a pilgrim grey,

To bless the turf that wraps their clay;

And Freedom shall awhile repair

To dwell a weeping hermit there!

About Avadoro Worden

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